Changes
by abovethenightsky
Summary: Change isn't always easy, but sometimes we need it to grow, to learn, to love.  Follows Remus Lupin from childhood to adulthood.  Eventual RLSB.
1. Six

**1: Six**

Sometimes change isn't easy. Remus Lupin learned this lesson when he was six years old.

He wasn't one of those explorer types when he was a tyke, he didn't want to know what was beyond his own backyard, because his backyard was, in his mind, where the fairies played and the stories came alive, stories his Muggle mother whispered to him before he went to sleep every night. Remus didn't need much more than that.

Of course, the stories also had monsters and demons and terrible things, much worse than anything in the wizarding world, and that was why, one cold midwinter night, just after sunset, Remus didn't regard the shadow lurking in the bushes as anything but a figment of his imagination. One of the darker shadows, yes, but just a shadow.

But shadows don't rustle the leaves in the bushes, and figments don't break twigs under their paws. Remus realized that he wasn't imagining anything a moment too late and did the only thing he could.

He ran.

But the chubby legs of a six-year-old couldn't outpace those of a wolf under even the best of circumstances, and that night, under a full, full moon that he would grow to hate, Remus learned that pain was more than a scraped knee or a paper cut. And as the teeth pierced his sweater and his shirt and his skin, he screamed. His parents came running, the thing let him go, he saw unforgiving yellow eyes…

And then he thankfully, thankfully lost consciousness.

* * *

Sometimes change hurts. 

When Remus woke up, his mother was holding him close, whispering things, soft reassuring nothings, trying to distract him from the ache in his side and all of the itchy bandages. He was somewhere blank, white, in a bed that wasn't his. He could see his father arguing with some man, a wizard, by the robes, robes like his father wore to work. The wizard was trying to tell his father something, his father grew angry, his mother clutched him even more tightly, and Remus did not understand.

He would forget about St. Mungo's, later. He would forget about everything but how tightly his mother clung to him. He would never know that the Healer was telling his father that there was nothing to be done, although, the Healer had admitted, they could always put him out of his misery. A child like him wouldn't have much to live for. But no one would hear of that. Remus was their son, their only son, and they weren't going to put him down as if he was some sort of…of _animal_. And the Healer shrugged and looked the other way.

They took Remus home after a couple of weeks, and after two weeks more the full moon rose again. Remus' parents locked him in the spare room that night, apologizing, telling him to be brave and not to worry. And the poor boy didn't understand, he couldn't understand, not when the moon rose and he _changed_ that first time and his skin was stretching and his bones twisting and the entire world seemed to melt into the searing, blinding pain.

And then the wolf stood in this unfamiliar room, sniffing, curious. He was stronger than the boy, although just a puppy, and he wanted to run, to hunt, to bite. He had those sharpened canines for a reason. The smell of human on the other side of the door was almost overpowering. He leaped at it, scratched, dug his claws in, bit at the door, growling, whining, to no avail. It wouldn't budge. But he needed something to claw, and so, tiring of the door, he turned on himself.

He had no way of knowing that, outside, his father had to carry his mother away from the door. She had fainted at hearing the inhuman noises. Her son, her baby…that wasn't him, it couldn't be him. But his father was a wizard, and knew of werewolves, and was almost prepared to deal with the inevitable. Almost.

When he opened the door the next morning, after the moon had set, he could fix the scratches on the door or the bite marks in the spare armchair with a simple _Reparo_. He could not fix his son, bleeding, unconscious. It would be like this every month.

After that first night, it was only a matter of time. Three more moonrises, and then Remus' mother had left for good.

* * *

_A/N: Hey all, my computer was the unfortunate victum of a virus and now I'm stuck using school/library computers. So I may be a little slow at getting new stories up/ updating this or _Reminiscent_, so be patient, and I'll try to keep up the writing. Thanks, and, as always, please read and review._

_D_


	2. Eleven

_A/N: Yay! Reviews! Thanks RL4SBnotNT, CaptainOats12, and MoonyIsTheMan for reviews (and so quickly! I wasn't expecting anything yet). I'll hopefully be taking my computer in tomorrow to get it fixed. Meanwhile, I have a few chapters up my sleeve. :)_

* * *

**2: Eleven**

Sometimes change is necessary.

Or at least, that's what Remus' father told him when he bundled him off to Hogwarts. Remus was, of course, worried. He'd been home schooled since he was small, and he wasn't used to being out of the house and the trains and all of the other _people_…things he'd only read about in books. It was overwhelming.

And besides, would anyone at Hogwarts accept one of…well, someone like Remus? A werewolf? If he didn't tell them, then maybe they would. Remus wasn't sure.

He thought he'd do well in school, though. After all, he loved books and reading and learning. Being stuck in the house, it was the only way he could learn about what the world was really like. He learned about frigid Antarctica and the tribes in the Amazon and the revolutions that had shaped the globe. And most of all, Remus had learned about _magic_, and how it was everywhere, in everything, and Remus was excited, so excited, to use it.

But then again, Remus wasn't used to _people_. He didn't know what they were like, people. The only one he'd known that well was his father, and Father couldn't come to Hogwarts with him. Father assured him that there were nice people at Hogwarts who would take care of him, but Remus wanted a friend, a someone, and his father couldn't guarantee him that.

Instead, Father looked at him, smiled, hugged him, patted him on the shoulder and said, "You're all grown up, my boy," before packing him onto the train. Remus didn't notice that his father had gotten thinner, paler in the last five years, and Remus didn't know that his father was going to use the welcome opportunity that Hogwarts offered to chase after his wife. All Remus saw was a goodbye, and that alone brought the tears to his eyes.

But he'd stayed up late worrying the night before, so by the time the Hogwarts Express was rolling its merry way to Remus' home for the next seven years, the boy had already been rocked to sleep.

* * *

Sometimes change is unexpected. 

Of all the houses, Remus hadn't dreamed of being sorted into Gryffindor. All of his research and pondering had led to the conclusion that he'd inevitably end up in Ravenclaw. He was more bookish than brave, after all. He knew that there was no way he'd end up in Slytherin, not as a half-blood and a werewolf to boot, and Hufflepuff seemed rather unlikely, but Remus didn't consider himself _bold_ or _daring_, and so he wasn't quite sure how he ended up at the table that was decked out in crimson and gold. Maybe the Sorting Hat saw something that he couldn't?

Well, the Gryffindors seemed alright, anyhow. That one girl sitting across from him, the one with the bright red hair tucked back from her face behind a headband and the freckles across her nose, she seemed nice. He thought her name was Lily, but he'd really been too nervous about his own Sorting to pay attention to anyone else's. The boy to Remus' left had wild hair and glasses and was chatting excitedly with the boy sitting across from him. He looked comfortable, and happy, and Remus wished he could feel that at ease. James, that was his name. James Potter.

The boy across from James made some kind of snide remark and rolled his eyes and James casually flicked a pea at him. The other boy grinned and retaliated with a forkful of carrots, but his aim wasn't great, and instead of hitting James the carrots bounced off the head of the small boy sitting next to James. Eager to get in on the fun, the small boy overzealously reached for something to throw back, but ended up tipping half of the contents of his plate into James' lap instead.

James didn't like that one bit. He grabbed a handful of potatoes. Remus saw what he was about to do and grabbed James' arm, saying "No, don't!" But James threw anyway, the pitch going wide and the potatoes hitting a fifth-year Hufflepuff in the back of the head.

What happened from there was anyone's guess. Remus only remembered that, later, when everyone was covered in the sticky remains of mashed potatoes and sausage bits, the Headmaster had called this "the most exciting start to a year he could remember" just before the four young Gryffindor boys were hustled off to detention by one Minerva McGonagall.

It was only the first day of school, so there wasn't too terribly much to be done for any of the teachers just yet. However, the Potions professor was happy to have volunteers to sweep out his classroom. And so Remus spent much of his first night, not in the Common Room getting to know other students, but in the dungeons with the sort of brooms that weren't meant to fly at all.

The floors were as clean as they could be when Remus finally snapped. School wasn't great so far. It wasn't even _good_. He wanted his home. He wanted his books. He missed Father. He dropped the broom, slumped down behind a cauldron, and cradled his head in his hands. But he wasn't going to cry. No, he wasn't.

He'd thought that none of the others had been paying attention to him. After all, that James was too joking around with his friend, and the other boy seemed too shy and out of it to notice Remus. But he felt someone sit down next to him and heard a boy say, "You okay, mate?"

Remus looked up. It was the dark haired boy who wasn't James, and he actually looked somewhat concerned. Remus rubbed his eyes and blinked. "Er, yeah, I guess, I just, detention…the first day…it's…"

The other boy shook his head and grinned. "It's nothing to worry about," he said, giving Remus a somewhat awkward yet affectionate punch in the arm. "Don't care about it so much. We're Gryffindors, it's not what we do. Might as well take advantage of _that_."

"I'm not even sure why they put me in this house," Remus admitted, looking away. "I sort of want to go home already."

The other boy fidgeted, unsure of how to respond. "Well…" he began. "Don't be sad, look, it can only get better, here…" He pulled something out of the folds of his robes with a smile. "Have some chocolate. Nicked it off the table, before they kicked us out."

Remus blinked at the chocolate in the other boy's hand. "I mean, if it's okay…"

"Of course it's _okay_, what are friends for?" The boy shook his hair out of his face and offered Remus a hand. "Sirius Black."

Remus took it. "Remus Lupin."

"Cool name," Sirius said. "That over there is James Potter, and that kid's…well, actually, I don't know…oi, you! What's your name?"

The chubby little boy dropped his broom with a squeak at being addressed and stammered, "Um. P-Peter…Peter Pettigrew."

"Right," Sirius said smoothly. "And that there's Peter. See, it's not going to be so bad."

Remus was about to respond with a smile and a reply when Professor McGonagall opened the door, telling them that they'd been down here long enough and that they might as well get up to Gryffindor Tower; they'd have a long day ahead of them tomorrow. As she ushered them out of the door, she said, in a stern tone, "I'd better not find you four up to any more mischief. The consequences _will_ be more severe."

And Sirius winked at James, who rolled his eyes at Remus, who smiled at Peter, who looked sheepish but happy.

And for the first time, Remus Lupin knew what it was like to have friends.


	3. Still Eleven

Sometimes change isn't the same the second time around.

Remus' first class of his school career was Potions, of all subjects. Potions with the Slytherins, in the very dungeons they had swept clean the night before. Remus was in much higher spirits that morning, though, and after a good night's sleep and breakfasting joking with Sirius, James, and Peter, he felt ready for almost anything.

The Potions professor was a fat and loud old man, and Remus' Potions partner was the exact opposite, a small, greasy-haired Slytherin boy with a rather large nose. He kept glancing across the room to where Lily was determinedly ignoring James, her partner. He never said anything to Remus, who, deciding that he might as well try to do for someone else what Sirius had done for him, finally spoke up.

"So, um, hi," he said. "I'm Remus. Remus Lupin."

The other boy only responded with a muttered "Severus Snape" before looking back at Lily, who waved at him. James stuck his tongue out rather rudely.

Remus, still struggling with basic conversation, tried to pick it up again with "So, I, um…"

"Are you friends with that lot?" Severus interrupted, indicating Sirius, James, and Peter with a nod of his head.

"Um…" Remus looked at his three friends. James was still trying to talk to Lily. Sirius was smoothing his dark hair over his eyes and making stupid faces while Peter laughed. "They're not so bad once you get to know them," Remus assured Severus, over Sirius' shout of "Check it out! I'm Snivellus!"

Severus gave a dismissive snort and turned away, barely speaking at all for the rest of class.

And so Remus learned that making friends wasn't always as easy as it seemed.

* * *

Change can be downright odd.

That year was the also year Remus learned about girls.

It wasn't as if he hadn't previously _known_ about girls, he had read about them, of course, he just hadn't ever met one, not that he could remember. He _could_ remember his mother, and her smile, and her soft hair, and how her sweet smell and her distinct femininity made her different from Father, but she was a woman. These were _girls_. These were _different_.

Or at least, that was what James and Sirius and Peter always said. They looked at the girls with this sort of mix between admiration and curious fascination. They talked about them, too, sometimes to such a degree that Remus felt embarrassed on the girls' behalves. James and Sirius, at least, only seemed to fixate on two things: pranks and girls. Peter would fixate on whatever the others were fixating on. And Remus would listen. He could tell that they liked a listener.

James only really talked about one girl – Lily Evans. And she was alright, but Remus didn't see what was so special about her, what made her so different. Her hair was a pretty red color, yes, but it was too short, cut just below her ears in a style she was growing too old for. She had freckles along the bridge of her nose, and her lips were far from ruby red, but James seemed to like them anyway. Remus always agreed with him about Lily's eyes, though: they were green, and shaped like almonds, and nice to look at.

Interestingly, while the other boys talked about girls, and wondered about girls, and focused on girls, Remus got on with girls, platonically, that was, better than any of the others. The fourth day, he ended up sitting next to Lily in Transfiguration. He was pretty quiet until she said, "Hi. I'm Lily."

"Hi," Remus said. "I know."

Lily looked a little confused at that, so he added. "James won't shut up about your hair. And, um…I'm Remus."

"James won't shut up about my hair?" Lily repeated with a small frown. "That's…" She looked at Remus and said, in a sort of know-it-all voice, "That doesn't surprise me. Those boys don't really shut up about anything."

"I guess…I guess they don't," Remus admitted after thinking about it for a second.

"Well," Lily said, "Sev tells me you're not as bad as the rest of them."

"Sev?"

Lily sighed. "You don't call him Snivellus too, do you?"

"Oh, no!" Remus shook his head violently. "Severus just, um, didn't seem to like me much, was all."

"He thought you were going to make fun of him," Lily explained. "He can be sort of shy sometimes. He has issues opening up to people."

"Oh." That was the extent of the talk, really, other than working through a couple of exercises together. For a girl, for someone who wasn't a boy, Lily wasn't so bad, and when class was over she smiled and said she'd see him later. Remus couldn't see why James was so awestruck by her, she was just a person. But after class, when James and Sirius crowded him and asked him what he was talking to Lily about, they made a simple conversation out to be such a big deal that it seemed so much more important than it was. And Remus wasn't sure which was harder to understand: girls, or the way boys always had them on the brain.

* * *

Sometimes change is difficult anyway.

That first moonrise was the hardest to endure, what with the nurse spiriting him away in the middle of dinner, to the bewilderment of his friends, and leading him down a dark passage under a very violent tree to get to the shack where he'd be contained. It was dark and uncomfortable, but it was bigger than what he was used to. He noticed there was furniture there; that seemed silly, a wolf couldn't tell the difference. Remus, as a human, felt that it was a gesture of kindness, that they were trying to help him get comfortable, although that didn't keep him from feeling somewhat afraid as the nurse left him and he sat alone in the middle of the wooden floor and waited for the moon to rise. And waited. As always.

The transformation was terrifying that night. The wolf didn't take well to being in a new place. He felt trapped. He destroyed the majority of the furniture as he tore his way through the shack, howling at the door, growling impatiently at the boarded-up windows, whining, clawing and biting until he bled. Finally, exhausted from his fruitless battle against the shack, he slumped down against the broken remains of an armchair and slept.

Remus awoke in the Hospital Wing. His distraction had had one advantage: while taking his frustrations out on the shack, he hadn't mutilated himself, and had come out of this one night relatively unscathed. While still suffering from the illness that preceded and followed each full moon, Remus knew that, at least, there would be no probing questions from his friends about the suspicious scratches that usually, "inexplicably," appeared.

When he was released from the Hospital Wing the next day, he told Sirius, James, and Peter that he'd been visiting his sick mother. He thought there was a chance that they believed him. He thought.

He got used to telling the same lie, through gritted teeth and avoiding glances, month after month. He didn't notice when his friends started meeting him with vacant stares and empty nods and "oh, sure." They were all still friends, and that was all that mattered. So it seemed to an eleven-year-old boy.

* * *


	4. Twelve

Sometimes change can be accepted.

That year, Remus began to figure out that who he was went beyond his books or what he became at each full moon. He could be himself with James, Sirius, and Peter. He allowed himself to laugh a little, and, although he didn't always approve of their antics, to get caught up in them. He could make jokes. He could correct them when they were wrong, and they would roll their eyes and take it in stride. He started to figure out what "being himself" actually meant.

Riding home on the Hogwarts Express in a compartment with his friends was much easier than riding there alone. James and Sirius bought half of the sweets off the trolley when it came by and shared them with Remus and Peter, who couldn't afford as much. They reminisced on the year, Sirius about how successfully he'd pranked Severus "Snivellus" Snape, James about his fairly obvious crush on Lily, Remus about his classes, all of which he'd loved, and Peter about, well, whatever topic they happened to be on.

The company he was in made the time fly by. Before Remus knew it, the train was pulling into King's Cross Station, and it was time to say goodbye for the summer. Peter was the first to be collected, whisked away by his mother before he could even get a proper wave out. Then Sirius' mother, flanked by a small boy Remus assumed was Sirius' brother, Regulus, grabbed him unkindly by the wrist to keep him from interacting with those Gryffindor brats any longer than necessary. Everyone in Sirius' strict pureblood family had been in Slytherin, and he didn't seem too happy to be going home. He rolled his eyes behind his mother's back as she pulled him away, flashed them a grin, and was gone.

So James and Remus were left, standing on their tiptoes to spot their respective parents in the shifting crowd. James saw his mum and dad at the same time Remus saw his father. Before Remus could step away, James caught his shoulder.

"Hey," he said. "Hope she gets better."

"Who?" Remus asked, puzzled.

James gave him a quizzical look. "Your _mum_?"

"Oh, yeah," Remus rushed. "Yeah, me too. Thanks."

James rolled his eyes and shook his head and waved goodbye and the two parted ways. Remus father collected him and his trunk and they went home. And that was that, the end of a grand adventure.

At home, things were as they always had been. Remus spent a lot of his time reading, sometimes while lying out in the sun, or talking with his father, who seemed a little distracted anyway, telling him about school and his friends and everything. A lot had changed at Hogwarts since his father's first year, although some things, like Quidditch and the ghosts of each house and even old Professor Binns remained the same.

But Remus' father was unusually quiet those first two weeks of the holiday. He finally took his son aside and told him: he'd found Remus' mother. He'd found her happily married to a Muggle man. She had two daughters, two half sisters Remus had never met, and a son, the son of the man she'd married, Remus' stepbrother. He hadn't, of course, gotten her to come back to him, be he had her address, so if Remus wanted to write…he trailed off and let his son fill in the blanks, patted him on the shoulder, told him he was a good kid, and asked him if he wanted to talk. Remus shook his head, no, he didn't want to talk, he wanted to think. So his father left him alone for awhile.

So Remus thought. He thought about the few memories of his mother that he still could recall. Her laugh when she read him bedtime stories. Her soft brown hair – it always smelled like cinnamon. The way she'd play with him out in the backyard, pretend she was a queen while he was her son, the prince, and together they'd rule their kingdom. How she held him in the St. Mungo's, that was one of the few things he remembered.

No, he thought. He wouldn't write. Not just yet. Maybe when she was ready, and he was ready, and he had something more to say. He wasn't angry at her. He didn't blame her. He just thought she wouldn't be the same person he remembered, and that scared him, just a little.

His father was back to normal once he'd gotten that off his chest, and they spent the rest of the summer in much lighter spirits, even taking a trip for a few days to camp by a lake. Staring up at the stars that night, next to a dying fire, under a crescent moon, Remus felt strangely at ease. James or Peter or Sirius would love this, and he would be seeing them again soon. He closed his eyes and let summer run its course.


	5. Twelve Again and Going Strong

_A/N: Wow, thank you all so much for the reviews! I always love knowing that you guys are out there reading._

_I realized that I forgot the chapter headings for the past two chapters, so I may go back and fix that. Also, I've forgotten the disclaimer: If it is listed as fanfiction, chances are it that doesn't belong to me._

_Cheers!

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**5: Twelve Again and Going Strong**

Sometimes change is welcome.

Second year started off much better than the first. Remus met James, Sirius, and Peter on the train, and they sat and talked about summer, how the trees were green and everything else was gold and even if they didn't enjoy the company they were in, Sirius didn't, summer would make up for it. Peter had gone to visit relatives in France, James spent time at the beach, and Sirius had had to endure the annual family reunion. They had written each other extensively at the beginning of the summer, but, as boys tend to do, they had let their minds wander and had forgotten, and soon only Remus was churning out letters on a regular basis. Besides, there was something more magical, more exciting, about telling your friends everything when they could see you and respond instantly, with curiosity in their eyes and interest in their faces.

The Great Hall, the teachers (besides the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, who, the boys would learn, changed every year), everything was much the same as last year, except the boys were now a bit taller and there were kids running around who were _younger_ than them. It was a bizarre thought, somewhat exhilarating. Sirius joked about adopting a first year, but they never actually did it.

Remus' first full moon came and went without much incident, although he noticed that James and Sirius didn't seem to believe the sick mother excuse as readily as they had in the past. He tried to be more convincing, tried to be a better actor, and, when that failed, avoided them for a couple of days until they were able to control their suspicious glances. That moon, the moon after that, every time Remus had to lie, he felt terrible. Would the truth be any easier?

And then there was the day that Remus encountered James, Peter, and Sirius in the library. That would be odd enough on its own: they _hated_ the library, with all of the dust and dreariness, and they often said they would rather be anywhere else. But Remus found them, all three of them, huddled around a small table in the corner, reading with frowns and contemplative looks. When they saw him there, they looked up hastily, and Sirius hid the book behind his back, but not before Remus could glimpse the words "_and Other Dark Creatures_" in the title. He turned on his heels and fled, his eyes filling with tears.

They would hate him now. Of course they would hate him now. He was dangerous, he was vicious. It didn't matter that it was only once a month. Who would want to be friends with someone like him? It seemed to take him forever to run down the corridors, and when he reached Gryffindor Tower, he ran up the stairs to their dorm, buried his face in his pillow, and pretended to sleep.

Remus heard James, Sirius, and Peter come in only a few minutes later. He tried to keep still as they walked towards his bed, and heard Peter softly say, "He's asleep."

"He's not asleep," James said. "Remus, we know you're not asleep."

"We wanted to talk to you," Sirius added.

"We don't hate you," James tried. "Just look up for a second, okay?"

Remus turned his head and opened one eye. All he saw where his three friends standing over him and frowning. "What? What is it?"

"We, um, we know," Peter said.

Remus hid his face in his pillow again.

"But we don't think it's bad!" Sirius said. "You being a werewolf, and all. It's, um…" He fumbled for words for a second. "It's kinda cool, actually."

"Yeah!" James chimed helpfully, overenthusiastically. "I mean, you get to turn into this big threatening wolf thing. Scare people. How sweet is that?"

"Wish I could do that," Sirius added.

There was an audible squeak as Sirius stepped on Peter's toe, and he added, "Oh, yeah, it's really cool."

Remus looked back up at them. Alright, maybe he still had friends. But they were _insane_. They were _mental_. Most wizards didn't think werewolves were cool, they thought they deserved to be put down before they attacked people. And then he realized what his friends were doing, what they were trying to do for him, how they were trying to accept him, and he felt a rush of disbelief and incredible gratitude. But he had to be sure.

"It's, um, not really that great," he said. "It actually hurts and I can't remember anything that happens. You don't hate me?"

"Of _course_ we don't hate you!" Sirius exclaimed. "It's totally wicked!"

Well. He'd never thought of it like _that_ before. He found it kind of hard to think of it like that, actually. But James and Sirius and Peter seemed to believe that his "furry little problem" was actually something that he shouldn't have to be ashamed of. So he tried not to be.

So second year was the year that Remus came out of his shell, a little. It was the year he was really introduced to being liked for who he was, unconditionally, no pretenses. He started being a little bit more talkative, a little more daring. Now that he didn't have to hide from his friends, they became even closer. They came to visit him in the hospital wing after his transformations. They would ask him about them. They were curious, not repulsed. It was more that Remus had ever hoped for.

And he felt at home.


	6. Thirteen

_A/N: Hey y'all! Sorry for the short chapter this time, I have a couple of more sections written after this one, but this section didn't seem to really fit well with either of them, so it became its own chapter. So, more tales from the summer. Enjoy!

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_**6: Thirteen**

Sometimes change is just right.

The summer holiday after second year seem to drag by slowly. Of course he loved seeing his father again, and of course he enjoyed having days that were, well, quieter (to say the least), but he missed his friends. He missed them terribly. None of the books in his collection, not even the new ones his father let him pick out from Flourish and Blotts as welcome home gifts, could take their places.

The four boys grew a little better at staying in touch that summer, and their letters were still arriving by owl well into August. Remus' friends were especially good at keeping tabs around the full moon, and once, when he was lying in bed, recovering from the previous night's transformation, his father came in the room with several thick envelopes, containing various sweets, silly photographs, and cheery notes. Remus was thrilled, but, strange as it was, he almost thought his father may have been happier. His boy, his son, had friends. Real friends. His son could be…normal.

Although Remus didn't leave his house much that summer, he enjoyed reading about his friends' adventures. Apparently, poor Peter had to endure the company of a fat and over-perfumed aunt for two whole weeks. But in the end it was alright, because his family then ended up taking a trip to the country, and, despite Peter's mild grass allergies, he managed to have a good time.

Sirius and James had a different sort of adventure. Sirius was desperate to run away from home, from his awful family, before all of the rest of them came for their annual reunion. And Sirius' second attempt had been the one that worked. He managed to grab his broom and fly all the way to James' house in the middle of the night, which, he assured Remus in his excited letter, was extremely difficult, seeing as his mother watches him more closely than a Hungarian Horntail guards her egg. But this time he'd escaped, and his parents, he boasted, couldn't figure out where he'd gone.

The first three days he was at James' they had loads of fun, and they went swimming and camped out in the back yard and got into trouble, but they did it all together, so it was better than normal. Besides, James' parents took that sort of thing in stride much more easily than Sirius' did. James told Remus that he knew he couldn't get away with everything, but he also knew that every time his mum berated him, his dad would smile at the boys' antics, and remember the days when he was young. Unfortunately, it wouldn't last. Sirius' parents eventually discovered the address of the house from the return address of one of James' letters and made Sirius come back home again. According to James, his mum and Sirius' mum hadn't gotten on at all. That didn't seem surprising.

Remus got in the habit of asking if anything new had come for him at the breakfast table every day. He tried to remind himself to be patient, to wait, as he always had waited. If he sat it out, school would start up again. And, indeed, soon it would be fall, in just no time at all.


	7. Something Unlucky About Being Thirteen

_A/N: I am so, so sorry, guys. Lately school and everything has been really crazy and I've lost track of so much, including this story. Here's one of the chapters I had on hold; I decided I kind of owed you. Your reviews make my day, and I can't believe how insensitive I'm being to you guys. It's just...writer's block. Any tips?_

_Thanks so much for your patience. Guess thirteen is unlucky, eh?_

_Love love,_

_Dee_

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**7: Something So Unlucky About Being Thirteen**

Sometimes change is inexplicable.

In third year, Remus began to notice boys.

It was something so gradual that he didn't actually realize he was doing it as a habit. He caught himself looking, a few times, at them, but he didn't think too much of it at first. Thin and gangly and scarred and awkward, he was always comparing himself to others, others who were whole and lively and better to look at.

Although they were never girls. He first became aware of _that_ strange trend after Sirius elbowed him and asked him whether he thought some girl or another was nice looking. He nodded along anyway, but he realized that he didn't think of girls' legs or girls' chests or anything James, Peter and Sirius pointed out to him. They were nice enough to behold, sure, but he always found that there were so much more to girls than just looks. And, eventually, he realized that he didn't see any girl like James saw Lily. That was to say, he wasn't really _attracted_ to any of them.

It was the boys that he looked at, really, despite the fact they were all at that same awkward age: either they were too thin and gangly, like Remus thought he was, or too boyish and chubby, like Peter. The only person who seemed to have a decent sense of how his feet and legs and hands were supposed to match up with the rest of his body was Sirius, which was why he was the boy that a lot of the girls bothered to look at. James was proportionate too, to a lesser degree. He was still short and skinny, but he'd made the Quidditch team this year and was therefore slowly building up a little muscle definition, if just a little.

And so Remus found himself sort of caught between this extraordinary curiosity about his friends' bodies and incredible shyness about his own. Sharing a room with them, it was hard to find someplace private to change, and he was always wearing the most clothing of any of them. Whenever Sirius and James were lounging around in half-buttoned shirts or no shirts at all, Remus would always be the one who was not only wearing his shirt, but his tie and his sweater vest as well. He desperately didn't want them to look at him, although, the idea that they _might _look at him, while appalling, sort of fascinated him at the same time.

So third year was a little awkward, and the reason was a single, terrible word that Remus, who was book smart, but not always _people_ smart, might have figured out if he bothered to see this phase for that it was. The word was _puberty_, and Remus wasn't alone, for it was driving all of them crazy. Sirius had a girlfriend for an entire month, a major achievement, and all of the other boys looked up to him for it. James pursued Lily more ardently then ever before, and Lily, being a girl and therefore of an entirely different species, had only gotten prettier and more mature. Her hair had grown out, and she'd developed a nice little figure, and didn't seem to be plagued by the common curse of acne, though she privately lamented that her freckles remained. Peter, well, Peter didn't seem to be on quite the same page as everyone just yet, which made him only try harder to get there.

And as thirteen became fourteen, everyone only became more mixed up and muddled and crazy, and Remus wasn't sure whether he liked it yet. It was one of those things, he supposed, which would take years to figure out.

If he ever figured it out at all.

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